Boys Will be Boys
by Twizzler Addict
Summary: Brick hated many things. In all honesty, he probably hated that word more.   A series of RRB drabbles.
1. But what am I?

"_I know you are but what am I?"_

A small, blonde boy said as he stuck his tongue out at his brother. At the tender age of five, Boomer was still gullible and relatively innocent. He was the baby of the family and because of this he was liable to get away with things like this. Silly word games like this that always started with Boomer at the top and ended with one of his brothers, mainly Butch, beating the crap out of him. Boomer would go cry to Him or Mojo or whoever the hell was around and tattle tale, sending them to time out.

"Shut up Boomer." Butch said, taking a sip of his cherry Cola as he watched TV.

"_I know you are but what am I?"_

"Stop Boomer."

"_I know you are but what am I?"_

"I said _shut up_ Boomer." Butch said sharply through gritted teeth.

"_I know you are but what am I?"_

"GO AWAY BOOMER!" Butch yelled chucking his soda at Boomers head.

Boomer easily dodged the half heartedly thrown soda and began to fly, circling Butch's head. Boomer taunted and teased as Butch seethed, sinking deeper into their old, beat up couch.

"_I know you are but what am I?"_

As Boomer picked up speed his words became slightly slurred, but no less hard to ignore. Boomer stopped flying and turned upside down in front of Butch's face. His blonde wisps of hair fell, forced by gravity. Blue met green.

"_I know you are but what am I?"_

"_I know you are but what am I?"_

"_I know you are but what am-"_

"A bitch."

Boomer stopped immediately and stared at Butch with wide eyes. His raven hair brother just smirked. Almost suddenly Boomer rocketed out of the room and towards the lab room. Butch, just at that moment, realized what he said and slapped his palm against his forehead.

"MOJO! BUTCH SAID A SWEAR WORD!"

**THNXZ A BUNCHES!**


	2. Cheating

"_You lose!"_

Their younger, blonde headed brother let lose a giggle as he watched his older siblings stare at each other with intensity. Neither boy liked to lose, especially to each other.

"Rematch! Butch cheated!" the red head of the group growled.

"Cheated? You're just mad that _you _lost!"

"I didn't _lose!_ _You cheated!"_

"I'm not a cheater you liar!"

Brick's eyes glazed over with a fierce hatred. Brick was _not_ a liar. He may have been a criminal, one-third of a trio of the reincarnates of evil, and maybe even a brat at times, but he didn't lie.

Not often, at least.

"FINE! Next winner is the king of all games-"

" and has to comb Mojo's back hair for a week!" Boomer added in, interrupting Brick.

Butch and Brick stared at each other. Butch was quiet, taking in his chances.

"Fine."

The two brothers stood in front of each other and were sizing the other up. Boomer flew over head and spoke clearly.

"On your marks, get set, GO!"

Immediately the two siblings sucked in a large amount of air and held their breaths as Boomer counted.

"one,…four,….elevendy six,….."

The two rivals eyes met.

Red and green.

Brick walked directly in front of Butch and smiled as Butch looked puzzled.

The redhead balled his fist and slammed it into his brother's stomach, causing the raven haired child to fly through the wall, losing his breath.

Brick smirked and turned to Boomer as he turned to leave the room.

"_I win."_


	3. Where Do Babies Come From?

"_Where do babies come from?"_

Mojo swiftly let his beaker fall to the ground and scatter with a crash as he quickly inhaled. He turned around slowly and stared at his three sons. Brick, Boomer, and Butch stood there giving him a questioning look.

"Well? Where do they come from?" Brick said, slightly louder this time.

"W-Why do you need to know that?" Mojo said, slightly taken back by the sheer bluntness of it all.

"Our teacher said tomorrow we're having our first health class and she said we should ask our parents any question we want to know!" Boomer said excitedly

"and since you're the closest we got, you're gonna tell us!" Butch yelled.

The boys were now a few years older, nine to be precise. They were attending school in Citysville at a local public elementary school. Mojo sighed. Figured Citysville taught Sex Ed class three years before Townsville schools did.

Mojo quickly regained himself. "Well, babies come from the stork-"

"No! We want the _real _story!" Brick yelled annoyed. He hated when people knew things he didn't.

Mojo thought and sighed.

"Okay. You want to know where babies come from? Listen Up!" and as he spoke the boys eyes widened and stared in awe.

_*Cityville Public Elementary _

"Can anyone tell me where babies come from?" The third grade teacher asked as she paced the room. Multiple hands went in the air, but she swiftly pointed to one.

"Boomer? Do you know _where babies come from_?"

"Toilets in jail."


	4. Father

_Father._

Brick hated many things.

He hated losing.

He hated being wrong.

He hated feeling like he was out of control.

He hated the Powerpuff Girls with a burning passion.

In all honesty, he probably hated that word more.

_Father?_

What did it mean anyway? On the internet it was defined as "_A man in relation to his natural child or children." _What if you weren't born _naturally?_ What if your first father birthed you from a sewage system and your second father brought you back from the dead? Did that still make them your _father? _

_Father…_

Brick stood eerily still as stared at the large flat screen through the window of an electronics store. There was a commercial on. It was one of those health commercials egging kids to eat right and play outside more often. Brick had grown accustomed to seeing the Powerpuff Girls star in such advertisement deals like these.

They were the poster children of anything _good. _

Instead of the girls this time, it was the Professor. He wore a huge smile and his hair was brushed back into perfect strands.

" _As the dad of the Powerpuff Gir-"_

Brick flew off in a huff into the sky, his red light fading behind him. Brick soon landed in his shitty apartment complex and stopped right before his door. Inside he could hear loud yelling and the TV blaring. Sighing he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

Unfolding it, he stared it and with one last grimace he threw it to the ground.

_Father and Son Camping Trip._

_Father!_

Brick hated that word. Brick didn't want a _father._

He wanted a _dad._


End file.
